


the aftermath of a war often hurts more than the conflict itself

by AlphaBet (rachellno)



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Fuck the 3 lives system it’s too frustrating to write so I made a new hard magic system, Gen, It’s all good until I have to write dialogue, No Smut, basically a writing exercise gone wrong, can someone teach me to write, idk I’ll probably add tags relavent to the story once I know where I’m going, im a pretentious piece of shit and there’s symbolism and themes, it has come to my attention not all of you appreciate Karl and his character, just their characters within the SMP, literally just me recounting the DreamSMP, no beta readers we die like men, some character tags have RPF but none of these are the actual ppl, tf is BBH and Skeppy’s character name on this website why r y’all using their real names what, unreliable narrators, what’s the library? idk man stick around to find out, will I ever use tags the way they were intended? of course not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29056458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachellno/pseuds/AlphaBet
Summary: The library is a mystery too, in all its glorious contradictions. The people are long gone, the land decimated forever ago by the series of intricate and indestructible black networks looming overhead. In fact, the remaining land is scattered throughout the craters. Craters which steeply drop to the bottom of the earth and end just over hell. Yet the library stands in perfect shape, no signs of time having worn it down, not a smudge of dirt on the floor or in the cracks between the walls, not a single speck of dust on the bookshelves three times a human’s size, no lamps out of fuel nor pens out of ink. Meticulously kept and ridiculously vacant.It’s been years since anyone has gone through any of these books, and the friends that penned them are long gone. Dead. Long dead.
Kudos: 4





	the aftermath of a war often hurts more than the conflict itself

**Author's Note:**

> ayo it’s up to you to guess who’s perspective this is- also note that narrators are unreliable and I am a pretentious piece of shit. Basically this is a prologue, and I’m going to be writing my interpretation of the DreamSMP! If you’re interested in my writing after this, u should stick around :D

Nothing better describes the library than the phrase ‘hiding in plain sight.’ Its architecture and size are homely, grandeur, lonely - with intricately carved wooden logs towering over any theoretical passerby (emphasis on theoretical). They supported a stone rooftop and perfectly handcrafted glass windows, all of which somehow withstands the tests of time. The land surrounding the library, however, tells a completely different story. It bloomed with youth; every tree, every building, every stream of water, purposefully and intentionally placed to create a beautiful nation, acknowledged as L’manburg.

Bloomed. Past tense. Withering. Present Tense.

No, wait, withering isn’t the right word. Withering can’t occur if there’s nothing left to be destroyed. L’manburg is dead, plain and simple. Has been for a while. The barren land was evidence of that.

The library was built some time after L’manburg had been destroyed, near where its oldest tree once stood. Now, there are no more trees, save for the ones preserved under layers and layers of resin to protect them from meeting the same fate as the charred, petrified symbol of betrayal on display inside for no one to see. It wasn’t the only item on display. In fact, the entire library stood as an homage of sorts to the nation it had replaced. No one knows why this nation of various factions and shifting alliances had been the one memorialized. L’manburg was by no means a good state. It barely managed to remain autonomous for the majority of its existence, and its internal conflicts caused nothing but harm, not only to the nation itself, but also to those who had the misfortune of associating near it. Why L’manburg? Sympathy and guilt for betrayal, perhaps, or a bitter resentment and inability to move on from the past, even once it had been long dead. Regardless, the library was there.

But for whom did it serve? Libraries hold knowledge, histories, stories, information. Is the information useful if there is no one left to consume it? What is information? Really- what is it; can it even exist if no one knows of it? Information is a mystery.

The library is a mystery too, in all its glorious contradictions. The people are long gone, the land decimated forever ago by the series of intricate and indestructible black networks looming overhead. In fact, the remaining land is scattered throughout the craters. Craters which steeply drop to the bottom of the earth and end just over hell. Yet the library stands in perfect shape, no signs of time having worn it down, not a smudge of dirt on the floor or in the cracks between the walls, not a single speck of dust on the bookshelves three times a human’s size, no lamps out of fuel nor pens out of ink. Meticulously kept and ridiculously vacant.

It’s been years since anyone has gone through any of these books, and the friends that penned them are long gone. Dead. Long dead. With them, the voices in their heads, the sympathy for their stories faded away. Other universes may acknowledge them with a passing nod or a nostalgic smile, remembering the entertainment this mess of a world had once been. Perhaps that’s why L’manburg was so distinct, it serves as a cautionary tale, or a way to goad the masses (in other universes and this one alike), that they couldn’t possibly be bad, since no one could fail as massively as that nation had. To this day, no one can tell if L’manburg had been married to unity or to discord.

Ah,, that doesn’t matter now. Procrastination is the only reason for why these books have remained cared for and neglected. Perhaps it’s time to open them again.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt your presence. I wish I were like you, able to come and leave this hell of a landscape as I pleased. Why you want to revisit this world baffles me, but at least all the information I’ve stored will finally have some use. Lord knows I hate reading through it, poor memory is now my greatest gift.

I guess the best place to start is shortly before the arrival of Tommyinnit. Bookcase 1, Shelf 7.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the weird spaces and chapter titles have meaning too because of course they do  
> (You should check out the band Bears in Trees :)  
> Alright uhhhhh hopefully you enjoyed that and wanna see more!  
> And I have a feeling this is confusing, but that’s okay! It’s supposed to be a little mysterious!


End file.
